


Heart of Glass

by janaaier



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, M/M, Medical Examination, Musicians, Other, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 17:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10223183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janaaier/pseuds/janaaier
Summary: Kihyun has been working too hard and starts having trouble with his voice and the group changes to accommodate him.





	

When Kihyun started feeling regular pain shooting between his ears he prayed it was exhaustion. 

It caught up to all of them towards the end of promotions but the tiredness started setting in faster than usual. He felt it in his bones. If he wasn’t heavy with fatigue then he was irritable. He felt like he was walking barefoot along the edge of a cliff. 

During promotions, healthy routines weren’t really an option. They were always travelling and waiting to travel, waiting for broadcasts, rehearsing for broadcasts, interviews, variety shows then three minutes of performance. Rushing and waiting. Hurry up and wait, they called it.

Mainlining caffeine wasn’t a good idea but it was the only way he could stay awake and focused.

He knew he was being peevish on-camera. He reviewed his footage afterwards and was irritated with how quickly he snapped at the other members. Every computer generated flash of lightning from his eyes gave him a twinge.

He comforted himself by saying that his role wasn’t the sweet one. His voice was so sweet it would be overkill if his personality was too. 

He mentally repeated his list of prickly vocalists, “Exo’s DO sunbaenim, Vixx’s Leo sunbaenim, Jinyoung-ah, Suga-hyung,” he suddenly realised Yoongi was a rapper, “all you have to do is sing, Kihyun,” he told himself

Of all the people he nagged, he was the hardest on his own performances, practising for hours.

He prayed it was stress that made him feel like he had a constant lump in his throat. 

He needed to rest his voice and his body but that was impossible. None of them slept well or enough. They napped in the car between broadcast stations but he couldn’t sleep in waiting rooms because his face got swollen and his voice cracked. 

He envied Hyungwon who could fall asleep in the eye of a tornado and wake up, with a tiny face, ready to shoot.

His voice was harder to control. He could feel if a note was going to sour before he attempted it and pitch correct but he lay awake in the small hours of the morning; worrying that the next performance he wouldn’t catch it in time. He stared at the ceiling wondering if his vocal coaches would realise that he wasn’t reaching the same range as he did before. 

And then, one day, they did notice. He was practicing scales and couldn’t hit above a high C without screeching. 

His manager heard the strangled noise coming from the practice room and immediately booked an appointment with an ear, nose and throat specialist.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were in pain, Kihyunie,” Hyunwoo was driving with him to the hospital before one of his many variety show appearances. 

His voice was soft but Kihyun could hear that he was angry, “what did you think would happen if you ignored this? Did you think you would get better alone?”

Kihyun felt another sharp pain in his throat, so sudden and hot that his eyes welled up instantly.

He couldn’t say that he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to sing again; that he was afraid he would have to leave the group; that he was afraid to be tired, sick, weak… He couldn’t allow himself to admit it.

The black van stopped in front of the emergency entrance of the hospital.

Hyunwoo shook his head, “I’ll see you at the dorm.”

Kihyun was afraid waiting outside the doctor’s office. The hospital corridor was colder and darker than he expected. He could feel the air conditioning through the rips in his black designer jeans. 

He had been given a long questionnaire to complete, detailing the specifics of his symptoms. A nurse took the stack of papers covered in scrawls and disappeared. He wasn’t certain if he’d given enough information and at the same time he was afraid he had disclosed too much.

A tall woman strode past him, entered the office and slammed the door behind her.

Kihyun had started to stand but sat down, stunned, at the sound of the slamming door. It felt like an hour until he heard a light voice call out.

“Yoo Kihyun.”

He entered the office to find his doctor seated behind a plain pine desk with a laptop and a huge, black cup of aromatic roast.  
He wondered where she had gotten the coffee from as he could only see her desk, a single glass filing cabinet, and a narrow examining bed with mounted medical tools. No kettle, coffee maker in sight and no one else had come into the room.

“You’re a singer presenting with unilateral neck pain, hoarseness, voice and body fatigue, decreased pitch range…” Kihyun didn’t recognise all the medical terms grouped together in a dry recitation but knew he ticked all the boxes.

The doctor seemed to realise that he wasn’t fully engaged, “you’re probably running on less sleep than me so I’m going to simplify this for you.  
You are showing a classic profile of vocal abuse. I’ll bet you have vocal polyps if not nodules. A polyp is like a blister. A nodule is like a callus.  
I’m going to do some tests to evaluate how bad it is. You got that?”

“I understand, doctor. A polyp is like a blister. A nodule is like a callus,” it was strange that then his voice sounded clear and strong.

“Judging from your speaking voice you probably won’t need surgery. Even if you don’t need surgical interventions you’re going to have to make some big changes so it doesn’t get worse, okay? Are you reading me, baby idol?”

She stared at him and he noticed that her eyes were a shade of brown so dark that he couldn’t see her pupils.

“You will still be able to sing. But big changes,” she suddenly answered his only, unspoken, terrifying question.


End file.
